Heather

by Chris Keniston

  “Oh, that does look good.” The object of his musings stepped into the room.

  “How’d the flowers turn out?”

  “Fine.” She shifted her weight and shrugged before taking a step forward. “It was really nice of you to make time to do this for my grandfather.”

  “That’s what neighbors are for, to help when they can.”

  She studied him just long enough to have an edge of discomfort begin to creep up his spine. He hoped she wasn’t building up steam for a tongue lashing because of his earlier comment from the porch door about eyeballing a situation over being so rigidly precise.

  A smile teetered at one side of her mouth. “You do that a lot, don’t you. Like with Mrs. Norton.”

  He shrugged, tossing the rag aside. The extra attention definitely made him uncomfortable. “Not much. Once in awhile.”

  “Well, the last few days you’ve had more than your share of being neighborly.”

  Gathering up the tarp and other tools, Jake knew she was studying him again. It made him feel a bit like a rat in a maze. Or a bug under a microscope. “So,” he picked up his bag, “did you learn anything more about the General’s health?”

  “No.” Her shoulders slumped and her lips pressed tightly together before she straightened again and forced a smile. “But we have a plan.”

  “A plan?”

  “Yes. Since neither the General nor his doctor are cooperating, I talked with Lucy, Violet and my cousins and everyone who’s in Lawford, even Lily and Cindy, are coming for dinner. Lucy’s making his favorite corned beef and cabbage with Rosemary roasted potato instead of boiled, and Lily’s baking his favorite kolackys. After he’s been well fed and buttered up with dessert, I’m going to give him a little medical exam.”

  “And the cousins are here for… reinforcements?”

  Her shoulders slipped again. “Yeah. I just hope the sheer number of us is enough and we don’t have to call in the SEALs to tie him down and allow me take a few vitals and listen to his chest.”

  “I’m not sure the entire Marine Corps could accomplish that. Few servicemen like to butt horns with a general.”

  “True.”

  “Hey, you two.” Violet popped her head into the doorway. “Poppy and Callie are downstairs. Lucy says we have five minutes to try a kolacky before she puts them away so we don’t spoil dinner.”

  “Seriously?” Heather put her hands on her hips. “I think we’ll always be five years old in her mind.”

  “Don’t complain,” Violet spun around. “If it involves homemade cookies or kolackys I can refrain from growing up.”

  At the kitchen island, both Callie and Poppy sat, already nibbling on one of Lily’s kolacky’s

  The family cook shoved a dish at Jake. “Saved you two.”

  “No fair.” Callie’s gaze followed the plate sliding across the counter. “Why does he get two?”

  For the big bad gym teacher, Callie was whining like, well, a girl—of the teenage variety. Jake had to swallow his laughter. Not that he’d heard that many teenagers whining of late, but the memory of his high school girlfriend constantly fussing about one little thing or another popped into his head large as life.

  “Because,” Lucy pointed a thumb in Jake’s direction, “that man worked hard today. And yesterday. And the day before that.”

  “I dealt with ninth, tenth and eleventh graders all day, and yesterday, and the day before, not to mention a team of estrogen-charged basketball players on edge about the upcoming semi finals.” Callie glared. “I deserve the whole batch.”

  This time Jake did laugh out loud. “She does have a point.”

  Lucy harrumphed and turned away. “Corned beef will be served in ten minutes.”

  Heather’s grandmother practically floated into the room. Dressed in a bright floor length muumuu of some kind that offset her silver white chin length hair and bright blue eyes, the lady would fit in with any classic Hollywood movie star from the glamour days. In contrast, she could still easily blend in with the artists across the lake. Eyes sparkling at the dish of fresh baked goods the housekeeper held in her hands, Mrs. Hart’s smile widened. “Oh, how wonderful. I keep losing stitches on my new project and I need to take my disappointment out on something sinfully delicious.”

  “These,” Callie pointed to the half-eaten kolacky in her hand, “definitely fit the bill.”

  “And there’s more for dessert,” Lily pulled a hot tray from the oven.

  The girls’ grandmother offered each one in her path a peck on the cheek. “Is your mother on the way?”

  “She couldn’t make it,” Callie muttered through a full mouth. “Wake tonight.”

  “Really.” The silver haired beauty dropped two kolackys on her small plate. “I hadn’t heard anyone passed.”

  The Hart’s middle daughter, Virginia, had married the town mortician and inherited the business after his death. Going from stay-at-home mom to single parent and funeral parlor director had been a challenge at first, but Virginia had pulled it off. Most of the time.

  “Somebody better be setting the table,” Lucy called from the sink.

  Several able bodies jumped to their feet, and even though none of the young women lived with their grandmother, the cousins moved about the kitchen gathering utensils, plates, glasses and napkins as though it were a nightly ritual. No one bumped into the other. Everyone remembered exactly which cupboard or drawer held what they were looking for. A twinge of jealousy pinched at Jake. Not only was he an only child, but so were both his parents. The only family he had left were the grandparents in Virginia.

  A cold moist nose nudged at his palm then gave one long lick to the back of his hand.

  “Well hello there.” Jake scratched behind the golden’s ear. “Which one are you?”

  Mrs. Hart looked up for a second and announced, “That’s Lady.”

  Jake cast his glance from Lady, short for Lady Liberty, to Sarge the identical animal laying in the kitchen doorway. He had no clue how the General’s wife could tell them apart at a glance, but just to be sure he dipped his head to peek at her underbelly. Yep. Lady, impatient with the pause in his attention, pressed her nose under his fingers and shoved his hand up and onto her head. The forceful motion was clearly dog-speak for keep scratching.

  “What’s she doing in here?” Pausing to look down at the dog, Heather carried a stack of dishes to the dining room.

  Poppy came behind her laden with soda bread and salad. “Wonder why they left the General’s side.”

  “Is he okay?” Callie turned and popping her head into the hall, scanned the area for her grandfather.

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” Mrs. Hart stood from the kitchen table. “The General is probably taking an afternoon nap and the dogs are too smart to give up a chance for the lot of you to love on them.”

  “Nap?” On her way back to the kitchen, Heather stopped, frowning at her grandmother. “Since when does the General take a nap this time of day?”

  “Heather, dear,” her grandmother patted Heather’s arm on her way out the door, “there’s a lot to be said for a nice afternoon snooze.”

  On his feet and at her side, Sarge rubbed against Heather, almost as if saying listen to your grandmother, before turning and following his master’s wife to the dining room. Abandoning Jake, Lady pranced after her cohort.

  “I know that look.” Poppy eased beside her cousin. “What are you thinking?”

  She looked at Jake as though expecting him to tell her what to say, gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head, and offered a plastic smile. “Grams is right. Some days I’d kill for an afternoon nap.”

  “And you’re perfectly healthy,” Lucy said. “Supper’s ready. Everyone in the dining room, and Jake—”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Be a sweetheart and knock on the General’s door to let him know it’s chow time.”

  Bobbing his head, he turned to go up the massive staircase when Fiona Hart leaned into the hall. �
��We’ve saved a seat for you, Jake.” And then she disappeared into the dining room without waiting for a response. Not that he had any intention of doing anything other than enjoying a few more hours of Dr. Heather Preston’s company.

  ***

  “That was delicious as usual, Lucy.” Violet carried two dishes into the kitchen. Heaven forbid anyone stack the plates for faster cleanup. Lucy would have had a nest of canaries.

  “Best meal I’ve had in ages.” Heather reached over and picked up Jake’s plate along with her own. He in turn took their drinking glasses in hand to follow when the General pulled him aside.

  Normally when Heather made it to the lake house for a family dinner, she and her sisters would sit on the side of the table closest to the window. This evening, every time she tried to weave around to the other side of the dining room, either Lady or Sarge meandered in front of her, or merely plopped at her feet, tail wagging like a battery operated broom, and blocking her path. It was almost as though they’d had a conspiracy to keep her from eating supper. By the time the General called the two pups to his side at the head of the table, the only open seat left was on the opposite side between the General and Jake, the two seats to one side of the General usually filled by her New York cousins, Iris and Zinnia.

  “Did you hear about Wade Abbot?” In the kitchen, Lucy filled the sink with sudsy water. “He and his wife are having baby number two.”

  “Uh oh,” Poppy muttered softly, her steps slowing. She’d dated Wade eons ago.

  “Want to hide behind me?” Heather hefted a shoulder as if she could block Poppy from Lucy’s view.

  “Yes, sirree,” Lucy continued. “That makes two babies in little more than two years.”

  Coming through the doorway, Callie froze, plates in hand, and leaned into her sister. “Who’s pregnant now?”

  Rolling her eyes skyward, Poppy blew out a low huff of exasperated breath. “Wade’s wife.”

  “Whew.” Smiling again, Callie muttered, “Thought it was one of my exes.”

  “He was never mine,” Poppy bit back louder than she probably meant to.

  “Should have been though.” Lucy slid the dirty plates into the sink. “You two made such a lovely couple back then. I told Wade’s mama he was perfect for you. Thought for sure that was a match made in heaven.”

  “We dated one summer.” Poppy advanced setting her dishes on the counter. “Not even the whole summer. And I was only fifteen. There was no heaven and no match.”

  “You tell her,” Violet whispered, careful not to let Lucy hear, grabbing an apron from the nearby hook.

  Callie touched Heather’s arm. “What are the odds we’ll make it through coffee without Lucy finding out Steve Carmichael just got engaged?”

  At least Heather didn’t have to worry. The good thing about not having dated much as a teen, or an undergrad, was there weren’t any old boyfriends getting married or raising children for Lucy to trudge up and parade around in conversation like a surrender flag.

  “Think Poppy can take the heat if I just sneak out,” Callie leaned into her.

  Heather whispered to Callie through the side of her mouth, “Chicken.”

  “Slave driver,” Callie quipped quietly.

  Heather bit back a laugh. It wouldn’t matter to Lucy that Callie’s ex, Steve, was on engagement number three and wife number two. All that impacted Lucy’s matchmaking streak was that Steve and Callie had dated their last two years of high school, which of course meant if Callie hadn’t thrown him over for that college boy, Steve wouldn’t be on wife number two. Regardless of the circumstances, Lucy knew just how to needle the girls about their love lives, or lack of.

  “You’d think by now,” Lucy looked over her shoulder at Poppy, “you’d have met some nice handsome God-fearing man at that church of yours.”

  “I keep the books.” Poppy blew out another small sigh. “I don’t run Christian Mingle.”

  “What about the new organist. He seems nice.” Lucy paused and squinting one eye, studied Poppy. “Yes, very nice.”

  “Now, Lucy.” Grams walked straight to the old percolator. The General liked one cup after dinner. Fresh brewed. The old-fashioned way. “Leave the girls alone. They’ll find the right men when the time is right. My girls did, so will they.” She leaned against Poppy and her lips sweetly brushing against her granddaughter’s cheek, Grams whispered, “You’d better get going before she remembers Missy Abbot is having twins this time.”

  Poppy’s face lit up and she threw her arms around the smiling older lady. Casting a quick glance at Heather and back, she eased away from her grandmother. “Thanks, Grams, but I’m going to stick around for a little while longer.”

  “Yes, indeed. I do appreciate you stepping in for George like this.” The General entered the spacious kitchen with Jake at his side. “Lucy, I don’t know how tonight’s corned beef can be better than the last, but it was. Excellent meal.”

  “Yes, Lucy.” Jake nodded his agreement.

  “Coffee will be ready in a few. Why don’t you boys go wait on the porch.” Grams turned from the counter to face her husband. Violet stifled a smile but Heather let hers show. She’d forgotten how cute it was when her grandmother would refer to her military-tough husband as one of the boys.

  The General sidled up beside his wife. Drank her in with his eyes. Gave her a pat on her rump so slight that Heather almost didn’t see it before he stepped back. “Capital idea, Fiona.”

  All these decades of marriage and her grandparents still treated each other like young lovers. The General adored his wife, and whenever Uncle Sam allowed him time at the lake, he’d never missed a chance, big or small, to show his wife just how much he loved her. How many modern men could live up to those expectations? No surprise none of the grandchildren had gotten married yet.

  “Anything I can do to help?” Jake asked.

  Before her grandmother or Lucy could respond, her grandfather spun to face him, nudging him out of the kitchen. “As a matter of fact, there is. One of the guests in the maple cottage took a paddle boat out on the lake and I could see it knocking against the pier before dinner but didn’t have time to better secure it. Would you mind saving these tired old eyes the challenge of dealing with the boat in the dark and make sure it’s tied the way it should be?”

  “Of course.” Jake didn’t hesitate to follow the General down the hall.

  The percolator began hissing and gurgling and making all sorts of sounds as it prepared to pour out liquid heaven. Maybe if Heather bought a real percolator for the doctor’s lounge at the hospital she wouldn’t have to drink sludge ever again. Right. And maybe she’d find Nessy in their lake tonight.

  Heather reached for the extra apron to help with clean up. Nowhere else did she put on an apron to clean up dishes or wipe counters, but it was a required ritual here at the lake house. She always felt like a star on one of those reality cooking shows when she wore one of her grandmother’s big old aprons.

  “Luce,” Lily put a pitcher of tea into the fridge, “do you want me to start drying those pots or serve dessert?”

  “Actually,” her grandmother pulled out a few cups from the cabinets, “one of you had better go help Jake. Those old boats can get away from a person, even a strong one, pretty easily.”

  “I’ll go.” Violet stepped away from her position by the sink and reached behind her back.

  “You’re already on dish duty.” Lucy’s hand slid across the sink and lightly brushed Violet’s arm. “Let your sister go. She can use some real fresh air.”

  Though she wasn’t exactly overjoyed over the jab about lack of fresh air where she lived, Heather certainly didn’t mind the idea of being nominated as official boat assistant to one Mr. Jake Harper. The prospect made her feel way more school-girl giddy than a grown doctor should.

  Chapter Nine

  “Need a hand?” Heather’s voice carried across the Point.

  Leaning over the stone edge, Jake sat up. “Not so far.” The boat was
almost properly secured, but he had a hard time returning his attention to the task at hand. Only a half moon shone and yet the light beamed down on Heather like a spotlight on a runway as she moved closer. Dang was she beautiful.

  “You got it?” She kneeled beside him, looking down at the boat rocking gently in the water.

  Forcing himself to tear his gaze away and deal with the boat shouldn’t have been so difficult.

  “Jake?” Confusion laced his name.

  “Sorry.” He shifted his weight and leaned over. “Almost finished.” The guests had done a fine job of tying up the front of the boat but had failed to notice the rope in the rear. Another swirl and quick knot and all was secure. “Done.”

  “Bravo.” She clapped and leaned back, landing on her backside, and laughed. “Oops.”

  Joining her laughing, he sat beside her. His knees drawn up, he draped his arms casually across them. The moonlight skipping along the lake cast shadows along the shore that bounced against them and had his mind wandering to how lovely she’d look with the water sluicing around her.

  “I can’t believe how warm it’s been for this time of year.”

  “I know.”

  She tipped her head up to the stars. “This always was the most peaceful place on earth.”

  The Harts had one of the best spots on the lake as far as he was concerned. “A month ago and we could have jumped in and gone swimming.”

  “Are you nuts?” Her head snapped around. “It’s not that warm. A month ago and that water would already have been an invitation to hypothermia. It may be nice and sunny in the afternoon, but don’t let that fool you. This time of year, the lake has to be frigid.”

  “Nah, we’ve swam in it late in the year before.” He leaned back on his elbows and suppressed the grin that threatened at the cute way she shook her head at him.

  One of the cabins across the creek opened a window and familiar tunes drifted their way. He remembered the song from high school. That time of his life when the kids spent all summer on the Point, and Heather watched youthful antics from a distance. Remembering her words the other night about all the teenage escapades she’d missed out on, he turned to face her. “Did you ever get to dance with a favorite boy on the beach?”